Seven hundred miles between us
Three thousand miles slowly
slipping away in my rear-view
mirroring our letting go
Wasn't trying to drive you away
just appreciated the distance
between you and your I do
wish you well my love
Whispered goodbyes into the canyon
such beauty in emptiness
and the beginnings of peace
took a deep breath when I reached the bay
you always loved the sea
.....The sun was oddly golden as it settled into wherever the sun goes after setting. The soft yellow-orange orb cast off the smallest bit of its colour into the late afternoon sky; long shadows stretched out from anything out in that slowly faltering light—stetched themselves like phantasms across the camp site and danced as the breeze jiggled the tents and the blankets hung out to dry from last night’s thunderstorm. .....I lounged in the not-quite-twilight-yet and watched everyone finishing their preparations for the ritual we were doing. I mentally reviewed my prepared speech yet again waiting for the signal….Showtime!
I missed you before we met
Impossible, you say?
Then please explain the way I sighed
relief when we came together
a puzzle finally complete
you the missing piece
And I confess
that I get that it may
sound a little strange
that I had a place for you
before I ever knew your name
Though it may ache
on days when you're away
in this space where you fit
it's with no bit of regret
I never forget, you see, that
I missed you before we met
Something was off, I could tell
even without the fleeing forest
critters who passed me by without
any worry of what I might do to them
as they moved through an arm's reach
of me. I moved towards where they
had come, clothes and skin becoming
damp with the morning dew and that
mist that rolls off the mountain at
that time of the day. I could smell it
long before I saw it...burned flesh
mingled with the sweetness of caramel
and melted sugar. The fire had not long
gone out, and the cottage still smoldered,
but whomever had been inside had fled
like the devil was chasing them...the
flow of syrup through the yard was marked
with the splash of footprints that disappeared
among the wild honeysuckle and morning glory
that draped the entrance to the forest and
hid the cottage from stray passersby.
I watched as walls began to finally give way
to the heat and the whole thing fell in on
itself, raising a fine burst of deliciousness
that had me licking my lips and wondering
why it tasted of gingerbread.
I wonder, though not often anymore
because rage isn't healthy
how you remember that day
standing by her bed
her ATM card tucked into your wallet
all of us staying
for that last breath
when you fled from the room
seeking, as always, to take care of you
you
you
know what came next
cash in hand again
and again
doing what you do best
(is it still heroin?)
For you, I guess
that day is laid to rest
convinced she'd understand
and forgive
again
like our father did
But, one of us can't forget
the betrayal you'll never outdo
congratulations on your masterpiece
you even made our mother's death
all about you
When it comes to Love, there are many ways
to both do it and say it. You may have found I'm
not really an expert on any of them. From here,
today, to there, whenever, wherever--you are here
with me even when you're not. There are just so many ways
that everyday things remind me of you, and I'm
certain that they always will. It's not that I'm
obsessed, mind you, you're just always here
in my thoughts, in spite of the parting of our ways.
We've long gone our separate ways, but I'm still here.
Too long since fingers stretched, flexed, and moved
over the black and white keys of
happiness and melody
muscle memory comes
back slowly and I
remember when
I played my
songs for
you
"There once was a man from Nantucket"?
That's one way the story is told,
but we both know of others,
some direct. some obscure,
that's just how it is
when considering
exactly
what is
Truth.
I miss my love such that I must fly,
Fly across distance and any obstacles between I
and Her. I would move over oceans, over sand;
Sand is no barrier to me. Neither is wind and
rain. No storm will impede me, no matter the strain
Strain is nothing but emptiness, like tears in rain.
How I crave and curse your silence
Revel in moments of quiet comfort
And sink safely into you
Distant doubts slowly surface again
To tempt my troubled mind
Fears fill the void of your voice 'til
You quietly quell them, laughing
It only took a little time, just a month or (really) nine.
Then maybe a gentle push, perhaps a bit of a shove.
Now, I've been prodded to write some rhymes and poetic lines.
Wonder at how they've become my labour of love.
Right? Yes, you were, as you cheerfully remind.
That's okay, you can play smug; truth be told, I like that you're chuffed.
In the hurly-burly
Christmas mall, the rush to spend,
to give, to take,
sudden realisation
morphing into full-blown
panic.
A child has disappeared.
The small hand is no longer here,
slipped away, perhaps,
distracted, entranced,
drawn to some magnet
any child would find irresistible.
A seductive display of Leggo
or the candyfloss machine but,
no.
Eyes scan frantic
for a glimpse of the striped t-shirt
he insisted he wear that morning.
Heads turn at the sound
of the calls for him
getting shriller with each cry.
Concern expands, sympathy spreads,
Time stretches, elastic minutes
seeming hours. Every second agony.
Then he’s there!
In the over-looked mechanical car,
silent and still with no coin,
he sits sheepish at the fuss.
Relief tempers anger,
hugs instead of haranguing,
that will come later
while the panic still hurts.
Sleep,
please
come back
to me. You've
been away too long.
Take me into your warm embrace
Wrap me in arms of darkness, enfold me in the night
Slide inside my willing flesh; fill me with your sweet release. Let me fall into your peace.
She
calls,
entreats
me like I
was a heartless beast
who had wandered slipshod over
her without care for the damage
my passing by caused,
I hear her
and say,
"Peace,
sleep."